Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 85817 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85817 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
I had to keep asking questions.
“And then you tried to frame Hazel… did you secretly love her?”
Nick gave a twisted laugh. “No. No I didn’t. I just hated everything Hazel was. I didn’t deserve to be caged for my mistakes, but Hazel did. I was doing everyone a favor. When I smeared the blood on her doorknob, I knew she’d open it, I knew she’d get it all over her hands. I figured it would be the best case scenario.”
The way he spoke about Hazel made my blood boil, aiding me in getting over the crippling fear. I could feel the tension in the rope around my wrists becoming less and less. I just had to keep him talking for a little longer.
“And then Stonewall Investigations had to get involved. Not even fucking bomb threats could get them to shut down.”
Nick pulled me back, away from the edge. I took a relieved breath, but I wasn’t sure if I needed more time. The rope still felt pretty tight.
“Sit back down.” Nick pushed me down on the chair, my hands still behind my back. He moved to Peter now, but he didn’t cut Peter’s ankle ropes. Instead, he grabbed his chair and dragged him, chair and all, to the same edge we had just been standing at.
“All right, now for you. The one who ended up with my actual true love. Angel. The man who condemned me to an eternity in hell.”
“Angel? You loved my Angel?”
“Yes. How do you think I knew when Stonewall was opening an office in Miami? Because I’ve been following Angel for years now. Ever since he walked out on me. I’ve never let him go too far out of my sight.”
Peter’s chair was perilously close to falling right over. Nick had one hand on the back, but I knew that wouldn’t be enough if Peter’s chair tipped over. Behind me, I could feel the straps around my wrists getting loose, almost loose enough for me to slip my hands free.
“You know, I considered myself a fallen angel for a little bit. And I found it ironic that my first real love was named Angel. I went against everything I was taught for him, I made myself a fallen angel.” He shook his head, flashing a wicked smile. “Fitting that I’m creating two more fallen angels tonight. The Holy Trinity is real. Three is a powerful number.”
Nick had lost his mind. Somewhere in his past, something had done irreparable damage.
“I’ve already resigned myself to my fate. Spending an eternity in hell. I accepted that when Angel fucked me. I accepted it. So, tonight, I can do no more wrong.” He pushed Peter’s chair closer to the edge. Peter’s big eyes, full of life and cheer at the fair only hours before, were now blown into two black orbs radiating with the fear he must have felt.
“Stop! Nick, stop it.” I had to try something. Had to try and talk some reasoning into him. “You’ve got to see where this is wrong. Being gay is nowhere near the equivalence of throwing someone off a building. Please, Nick. Let us go. We can get help, we can sort through everything.”
“Sort through everything? You think a therapist can ‘sort through everything’ with me? I speak only to God. And he’s been very silent lately.” Another push. Another strangled shout from Peter. “I think I know how to make him talk, though.”
My wrists came loose at that moment. Nick had no idea. I could launch up and grab them both. I had split seconds to decide what to do, and my decision could very well end up costing our lives.
But I made the decision anyway, hoping against all hope that I didn’t make the wrong choice.
28
Rocky Hudson
My car’s engine roared like a caged tiger down the Miami streets, no longer crowded from any rush-hour traffic. I took sharp turns and sped around cars, Angel in the passenger seat, his knuckles pale as one hand held on to the door handle and the other held on to his seat belt. He gave a little yelp when we sped over a hill and caught some air, landing on the other side with a rough screech, the bottom of my car scraping across the concrete.
I didn’t give a flying fuck. My entire paint job could scratch right off and I wouldn’t have cared.
All I cared about was making it to Sam. I drove toward the giant structure on the horizon, the blinking light on the highest level of the building working as a North Star, guiding me down the streets and toward Sam and Peter.
They had to be there. They had to be at Heaven’s Gate. And we weren’t the only ones on our way either. We had called the police, and I was sure they were sending officers out there.